


Safe and Sound

by Sam_Haine



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, The Punisher (TV 2017)
Genre: Angry Frank Castle, Angst, Blood and Injury, Bottom Steve Rogers, Breeding, Crying, Daddy Kink, Dom Frank Castle, Dom/sub, Dominance, Gratuitous Smut, Hurt Steve Rogers, M/M, SHIELD, Smoking, Smut, Steve Rogers Feels, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug, Sub Steve Rogers, Virgin Steve Rogers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-21
Updated: 2020-03-21
Packaged: 2021-03-01 05:35:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23240065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sam_Haine/pseuds/Sam_Haine
Summary: This is Frank's first time working with the infamous Captain America. He didn't expect the guy to be the exact opposite of what every media and press agency said he was.
Relationships: Frank Castle/Steve Rogers
Comments: 18
Kudos: 149





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I love the idea of Frank domming the HELL out of sweet little Steven Rogers. Jon Bernthal's portrayal of Frank Castle makes him the perfect man to take care of angel-face Rogers.
> 
> N.B: Chapter 2 is almost done.

Safe and Sound 

_"Here. Figured you'd need some of this after that... that whole Saharan disaster."_

Wolfish blue eyes blink open in an instant, thick brows frowning up at the familiar voice. Frank was met with the awkward sight of Steve Rogers, decked out in his dark navy stealth suit, minus the helmet, holding out a bottle of water in front of him. It's been six hours since they regrouped. _Six hours since their mission had ended._ The blonde looked tired, blood staining his gear as well as his face and his hair, but his big blue eyes were bright and earnest. Might be the excitement in his veins post-mission but Frank couldn't quite tell if the brightness was actually tiredness though he could hazard a logical guess. 

"Thanks." He grunts, taking the bottle and immediately cracking the seal for a sip. 

Steve stands by awkwardly for a moment as he quenched his thirst. The mission had _kicked_ their collective asses, literally speaking and even Frank wasn't proud enough to deny the fact. Steve had taken more of a beating from the terrorist organization of HYDRA. They'd been experimenting in the Saharan region, just shy of the desert in the small town of Marrakesh. The objective had been simple enough; _infiltrate the base, destroy or contain potential nuclear weapons._ They were ordered to leave no survivors- _that's why Frank had been called in._ But as it turned out, SHIELD had gotten faulty detail, and when Steve, Frank and a team of twelve agents penetrated the base, they were severely outnumbered. 

They'd lost four men, had multiple casualties and two of the HYDRA goons had escaped with blueprints of the deadly weaponry.

All in all, the mission was a shit show and Frank was _pissed._

"They want to debrief as soon as we get back to Wakanda- _Pierce's idea_. He wants us to report over video-conference." 

Steve's voice sounds uncharacteristically small and defeated- _...almost nervous._ Frank chalks it up to exhaustion and brushes it off as Steve stands before him awkwardly. He looks out of his element, hands perched on his belt, hair a fluffy blonde mess, lips quivering as if he's about to cry. Frank wonders if this guy was ever truly Captain America or if the government had pulled a Parent Trap trick and had switched out the old Steve Rogers. He knew it was a shitty thing to do, judging the man before him after only reading about him in books and museums, but he was curious and a little skeptical. 

"I ain't sayin' shit. Not til' we get to Manhattan anyway." He replies gruffly, the plastic bottle crackling under his strengthened grip as he sucks it dry of water. Steve watches wordlessly as he tosses the empty bottle across the room. It flies through the air before smacking against the wall and dropping to the floor. The blonde sighs and quietly walks over to pick it up, tossing it into the bin in the nearby corner of the room. Frank notes the evident limp in the supersoldier's walk, eyes tracing the dark stains running down the right leg of Steve's uniform. 

"That's gonna take at least a day, and Pierce wants answers. Now." The blonde sighs, walking back over to stand in front of Frank, eyes assessing him carefully. 

"The hell are you lookin' at?" Frank grounds out, eyes flashing defensively. 

Steve's plush lower lip jerks a little at his threatening tone but he doesn't back off. 

"You took a couple shots back at that lab. The doctors said you refused a medical check so, I'm just making sure you're o-"

"Making sure I'm _what?"_ Frank sneers, a low growl accentuating the rasp in his voice. "Making sure I'm fine? Do I look like five, _Captain America_?" 

Steve nearly reels back at the vitriol spat at him from Frank but luckily he doesn't. He's never heard his title sound so... _despicable_ in someone's else's mouth before. It's a little degrading and... frightening. 

"I can take care of myself just fine." 

"I just-" 

"Men are dead." Frank growls, clenching his jaw. _"Four_ men are dead because SHIELD couldn't take _five_ minutes out of their goddamn day to verify their fucking details! That's on _us_! Their blood, _that's on us!_ " 

Frank doesn't realise he's on his feet until Steve backs up and slams into the wall, trying to keep some space between them, hissing as his injured leg cramps in pain. He's taller than the so-called "righteous Captain," stormy blues glaring down into deep pools of aquamarine. Steve crumbles a little beneath his glare and he feels a little justified. 

"There's a goddamn reason I don't work with the state. Half the fucking time they're in on the deals and the organizations. Hell, they're part of the fucking problem! And you're the poster boy for their lies. You just follow orders, like a good little foot soldier, no questions asked." 

"Frank-" Steve wheezes, favouring his right side as Frank crowds him closer to the wall. 

"Tell me somethin', _Steve_ , is this what you do? Follow orders blindly, forget about the consequences for the human soldiers who don't have half the protection that you do because of some goddamn serum?" 

Steve's mouth finally shuts, pulled into a rigid line that trembles with every breath. His blue eyes are glassy, blonde lashes thick and clumped together from the telltale wetness but he holds his own. It's hard to keep a level head when most of what Frank's already said is true. His chest aches with guilt, tearing into his flesh like literal bullets as he recalls the screams of the soldiers that met their death on the mission- _it reminds him of Bucky for some reason._ He admires Frank's hatred for the government- it matches his own. But he disagrees with Frank taking the blame for any of it. 

The mission was _his_ responsibility. 

_And he failed._

The cabin doors open suddenly. 

"Frank, there's a call coming in- ...oh. Hey Cap. Director Teague's been looking for you." 

Both men instantly break from their intense stare-down in favour of looking at Ryerson, a soldier, who'd just interrupted a potential heavyweight match-up. 

Steve takes a deep breath and gathers himself, limping forward as if nothing happened. "I spoke to him earlier." He informs, but Ryerson shakes his head. 

"Dr Chan reported your failure to show up for medical. Everyone else has been checked out besides the two of you." 

Frank huffs at the soldier, stomping back to resume his position on the bunk bed, severely irritated. 

"Well, guess he's fine." Ryerson shrugs good-naturedly, grinning at Steve a little awkwardly. 

"Well, so am I, Sergeant." Steve reassures despite the statement being a complete lie. 

Ryerson shakes his head. "You may have forced all of us to get our wounds checked and helped Dr Chan and his team pull literal bullets from our asses, but don't think we didn't see all that blood on you. Better head on over before we start a petition." 

With a weak laugh, Steve leaves the room, but not before casting a wary look back at Frank whose eyes are trained on his like those of a predator. 

........................

Steve sits in a pristine white bathtub after his check up, blood oozing out of him like honey from a honeycomb. His blue eyes are pale... almost lifeless as he lets the cold water wash over his skin and surround him. The room is swaying before his eyes but he doesn't try to stop it. This is always how it feels after he gets injured on missions. Painkillers and anaesthetics don't work on him, so he has to endure the pain of shrapnel being pulled from his flesh without any kind of aid. Sure, his serum heals him quickly, but it sucks that it can't stop the bleeding or stop his head from spinning like he's hungover. 

Bright red stains the walls of the tub as he sinks deeper into the water. It covers his ears, then his eyes until eventually he's blissfully unaware of his physical environment and off in some other place that feels like lethargy mixed with weightlessness and pressure at the same time. He tries to drown out the echoes of the soldiers' cries that keep clawing at the insides of his skull but he can still hear them. It tears at his resolve, making him question _why_ he even wanted to become a soldier in the first place. And _how_ he'd even let things get so bad. 

_Four Men are dead! ...That's on us!_

He hears Frank's voice in his head too, spitting rightful hate at him, exposing him for the coward he really is. But unlike Frank, Steve doesn't blame them both for the deaths of those soldiers. No. 

_He_ killed them.

Captain America was a sham- _...Steve Rogers had let those men die._

That's on me. 

_Rogers!_

I killed those men. 

_Rogers damnit-_

If I'd gotten in front of them in ti- 

"C'mon you son of a bitch!" 

Suddenly it's bright and everything hurts and he's cold and crumbling in on himself as if he wanted to return to that addictive warmth. Everything's bright and sharp with hard edges that hurt the soft, weightlessness that had surrounded him just a few seconds ago. He feels the bitterness rising from deep within him, ripping through his chest, his throat and eventually spilling out of his mouth. 

_"Jesus fucking Christ Rogers-"_

The voice is familiar, dragging him from the last shreds of his delusions and bringing him back to the real world. He squeezes his eyes shut before attempting to open them again. White light floods his eyes, making him whine and cover his eyes protectively. 

_Everything hurts._

"Hey- hey, look at me. Look at me Rogers. C'mon." 

He feels rough but warm hands cradling his face, firmly slapping his cheeks as if to wake him. He blinks his eyes open again and hates the way the cold air stings them. Big blue eyes stare back at stormy, grey-blue ones, Frank's face a mess of worry and slight fear. His lips are moving and he's saying something but Steve just sits there, naked and pale on the bathroom floor with water and blood dripping down his skin. 

"The hell were you thinkin'?" Frank berates the blonde who sits there like a broken doll while he's being wrapped up in a big fluffy white towel. It only then occurs to him that he's stark naked in front of _the_ Punisher, Frank Castle. 

He shakes his head dopily, snuggling deeper into his warm towel. "Sorry- I don't remember getting clothes..." 

"We'll worry about the clothes later, can you walk? C'mon, let's get you up off the floor." 

Frank moves to pull Steve up but Steve's a mess of mermaid legs. He blushes in embarrassment and bites his lower lip. 

"I'm fine... can take it from her-"

"Bullshit. M'not leaving you here." Frank counters, staring Steve down pointedly until he caves. After a soft _"okay,"_ he's up from the ground, wrapped in Frank's strong arms. Despite the gentle handling, his wounds pull and burn in protest, forcing little whimpers and hisses of pain to whistle past his lips. 

"You're hurt." 

"M'fine," he insists stubbornly, sighing in relief as he's placed carefully on his bed. It wasn't king-sized or particularly comfortable as all the beds and rooms were just made for temporary use aboard the SHIELD aircraft. The room sways before his eyes and he doesn't fight it, but someone else does. Frank grunts in... _annoyance? Impatience?_ Steve doesn't know but he's suddenly aware of the man's presence and he moans in protest as he's put to sit upright again. 

"You're hurt. You've got bullet wounds across your right and they're still raw and open. The bleeding's stopped, thankfully, but you've still gotta wrap it." 

His blue eyes are blank and glassy as he blinks owlishly at the man. It's almost laughable, Frank thinks, looking down at the blonde who just seems out of it, dopey like he's high or something. Frank studies his face and is hit with a sudden realization; _fuck he's pretty._ It's a weird feeling that rises in his chest and then drips down low and hot into his stomach as his eyes trace the way Steve tugs his plump lower lip between his teeth. Frank's pretty sure Steve isn't flirting with him, and that it's just a nervous tick of his when he's feeling particularly out of it. But it doesn't stop the stirring in his lower regions as he firmly pats Steve on the cheek to wake him up. 

"C'mon now. Wake up." He grunts, ignoring the way Steve leans forward and buries his face in his clothed chest. His damp hair tickles Frank's neck but he doesn't attempt to remove the blonde. Instead, he removes the towel from around the supersoldier and dries him- ...well, dries all the skin he can afford to reach without making things awkward. Steve's nudity is glaring at him right now and he tries his best to be professional. He was taking care of his fellow soldier, _that's it._

"No..." Steve mumbles, nuzzling against Frank's broad chest. It's like he's trying to burrow into the man's body, as if it's a safe hideaway. It's the first time since Maria that Frank's ever felt so... needed.

 _Protective._

Sure Steve was Captain America, but Frank had never really given much thought to _Steve Rogers_ the human being until now. Steve Rogers seemed to be the complete opposite of the illustrious Captain. Of course they shared the same ethics and values and their moral compasses were practically in tune with each other but, whereas the Captain was rigid and solid, Steve was much softer and almost delicate. He was so much more sensitive and not in an annoying way... the softer side just made him seem more endearing. 

"Wait here, I'm gonna go get some gauze." He rasps, trying to pry Steve's clingy limbs off of his body. The blonde whines in protest, snuggling deeper against his neck. It's adorable but Frank's never gonna admit it out loud. 

"Wait. Here." He orders and suddenly Steve goes stock still in his arms. He lowers his head and almost looks ashamed of himself. His shoulders are hunched and he's closed off, wrapping his arms around himself. Frank sighs heavily and runs his fingers through the damp blonde hair soothingly. 

"I'm right here. Just gonna get some stuff to make you feel better." He rumbles gently, thumb stroking Steve's cheek. He feels like a father again, all gentle and understanding, patient and kind. But Steve's not his son. There's no way he could ever return to a life like that again. He's already too far gone. 

Doesn't change the fact that Steve makes him _feel_ again anyway. 

Makes him _human_ again. 

Surprisingly, it takes a mighty effort to physically remove himself from Steve, and any time he spends apart looking for gauze and antiseptic seems too long. He searches hurriedly through the drawers and steel cabinets, heart pounding as he imagines the worst. _No. Steve's gonna be fine. It's just a couple seconds._ When he finds the rolls of white material and the orange antiseptic, he doesn't bother restoring any of the misplaced items to their rightful place. His mission was to return to Steve as quickly as possible. 

And so he did. 

_Already failed once today... can't fail again._

When he returns, the sight that greets him is both breathtaking and sad. Steve's lying on his left side, body stretched taut as if he was trying his best not to move to jostle his injuries. The dim light of the room sets a soft white glow on his pale Irish skin, the smooth, naked jut of his hipbone looking way more delectable than it should under the circumstances. The planes of his body is smooth and creamy, the soft swell of his butt tantalizing. Frank feels like a creep, drinking in the sight of Steve's nakedness so hungrily but he can't help himself. 

Jesus Christ, Rogers was _gorgeous._

"Hey," he called gruffly, "C'mon wake up. We've gotta wrap those wounds." 

Steve stirs a little and makes a mournful whimper. A tuft of fluffy blonde hair pokes out from amongst the pillows and one blue eye stares sleepily at him. Steve's out of it. 

"Up you go." Frank murmurs quietly, kneeling before Steve as the blonde fixes himself upright again. He's quiet, characteristically so, but it still feels weird and _heavily_ intimate as Frank unravels the gauze. He's almost hesitant to touch Steve's body, too afraid of the warmth that might suck him in. He runs the gauze across Steve's chest, just past a dusky pink nipple. Steve's breasts are soft under his calloused fingers, warm and pale against his darker, tanned hands. He's tempted to squeeze it, to see the pale flesh crowd in between his fingers, to make Steve whimper or moan in ecstasy. 

But he doesn't. 

He diligently wraps the gauze with a tightly clenched jaw and hooded eyes. He makes a point of ignoring Steve's owlish gaze, too afraid of falling for him. _Christ_ , he hadn't felt this way since Maria. _Doesn't think his dick's ever been harder as well..._

_Jesus shut up Frank!_

"Mmh..." Steve gasps softly, wincing with watery eyes as Frank's knuckle brushes over a particularly brutal wound near his sternum. 

"Shit- ...sorry." He grunts, silently berating himself for being careless. Steve was hurting- way more than he originally let on, and it was his responsibility to help him heal. His _mission_ to make sure that Steve was well taken care of. Especially after that tirade he'd gone on earlier, bashing Steve when all the man had tried to do was help. 

"By the way, I'm- ...m'no good with words... most of the time I just grunt but-" His joke doesn't go unnoticed and he feels some satisfaction in the tiny up-tilt of Steve's lips. 

"But I- look man I'm sorry about earlier. I was mad, and I took it all out on you. It wasn't your fault and there's no excuse for the weight that I put on your shoulders. Ryerson and Teague told me about what you did... for all the agents who were injured. Checking up on them and making sure they were okay when you weren't... you're a good man, Rogers." 

Frank finally glances up at Steve's face when he fastens the final piece of gauze around that tiny waist. He's a bit dismayed to see Steve's head bent low, wet tear drops shimmering down his cheeks. 

"Could've saved em." Steve murmurs, his voice so small and defeated that it shocks Frank to his core. 

"You did. You saved eight men. That's eight human lives Steve. You didn't fail." He insists, unable to keep his left hand from cupping Steve's neck, thumb stroking his jaw. 

But Steve shakes his head, sniffling through his tears. "Tried to save em all. If I was quicker... the bullets wouldn'tve touched them... I failed." 

Frank feels his vision darken by a thick mist of red. Blood throbs in his veins, hot like molten lava as realization dawns upon him. 

"Y- ...St- you- ...you jumped in front of them to-" 

_"I'm so tired Frank..._ " Steve interrupts, leaning into the palm caressing his cheek. More tears flow but they just make Steve look even more beautiful. Frank feels his chest tighten and that's the moment he decides that he's heard enough. Steve Rogers was an imperfect human being. A _crazy, beautiful_ mess who deserved a lot more than the life that had been forced on him since he became Captain America. Steve Rogers was hurt and crying out for help while SHIELD just seemed to shove his mental capacity and emotional state under the rugs. 

Not that Frank had ever been one for emotions. But even he could see that it was all taking a toll on the guy who was supposed to be everyone's _perfect hero._

The exhaustion in Steve's voice was _gut-wrenching._

"So tired." Steve whimpers, falling forward, not caring if Frank was prepared or not. But the man catches him easily in his arms, rubbing his back gently while he cried. Frank can feel the weight pushing Steve down and keeping him underwater. It's suffocating and makes him feel a deep rage. 

_You're so out of your goddamn element Frank._

He ignores the voice and strokes Steve's cheek gently. 

"Shh, it's alright. C'mon, let's get you into bed." 

Steve sniffs at that but nods his head slowly, not making a move. He's waiting on Frank's command, the soldier turned vigilante realizes. Jesus Christ, how deep inside his head was Steven Rogers? The empty and hollowed-out look in Steve's eyes greet Frank like an old friend and he feels his body awaken. It's the very same look that haunts the veterans he's worked with over the past few months. They're never really quite right and it's clearly noticeable- the fear in their eyes- but now that Frank sees it in Steve's baby blues, he can't imagine why and how he'd missed it in the first place. 

Steve Rogers suffered from major PTSD and had developed a survivor's guilt-syndrome because of it. 

_"Fuck..."_ Frank mutters under his breath as Steve clings desperately to him. He doesn't want to go to sleep; _not alone anyway._

Frank finds it hard to deny the blonde his request. 

*

A few minutes later finds both men on the bunk, Steve curled up with his head on Frank's broad chest, snoring softly. Frank had elected to keep his black t-shirt and grey sweats on, while Steve had whined in protest when he'd tried to slip some underwear on for him. Turns out, Steve liked sleeping in the nude. 

_Frank kept counting his lucky stars after that revelation._

Steve's skin was angel soft under his rough fingers, smooth and creamy where the flesh had remained untouched by shrapnel and other elements. The gauze had held up through the night, staining red in some areas as Steve twitched and shivered in his slumber. His brows would quiver occasionally while he slept, lips trembling as his thick, blonde lashes fluttered on his cheekbones. Frank tried his damn best to stave off his arousal when a smooth thigh slid across his hips, the heat radiating from between Steve's legs _maddening. _He was fortunate that the sheets separated their bodies for the most part, so he wouldn't have the luxury of that naked skin on him but, somehow he also felt like the unluckiest man on the planet.__

__It was going to be a long night._ _

__

__***_ _

__Steve enters the conference room _an hour_ late. _ _

__It's completely out of character for him and it's difficult to stomach as the other agents observe him curiously with judgemental eyes. He crosses the threshold into the room and sits at the head of the conference table where Director Alexander Pierce glares at him with stormy grey eyes through a holographic screen._ _

__"Good of you to join us, _Captain._ " _ _

__Steve winces slightly at the biting sarcasm in the man's tone but maintains his professionalism._ _

__"I apologize for my tardiness, Director." Steve offers in a level tone, his piercing blue eyes unwavering._ _

__"Agents, clear the room. I wish to speak to the Captains."_ _

__As the SHIELD black suits begin to filter out, Steve blinks up and finally notices the dark haired man sitting in the back of the room, shrouded by a black, leather coat, black jeans and combat boots. An almost embarrassed demeanour takes a hold of the blonde as he recalls the previous night. He immediately looks away from Frank, hoping to avoid the man's eyes but it's hard to ignore the sound of those heavy boots _thudding_ across the floor in the same beat of Steve's heart in his chest. Frank looks good; well rested and composed as he stands before Alexander Pierce. Steve shakes himself out of his reverie and focuses on the Director once again. _ _

__"Rogers, any idea why those men got away with the blueprints?"_ _

__Alexander Pierce was a stoic man, cold and unfeeling like the agency he ran. Steve had never dealt with the man personally thus far as Nick Fury had been in control of both him and his group, the Avengers. But now that Steve was on solo missions while Fury had called hiatus on the superhero group, it seemed as if Pierce was his new Commander._ _

__"We did the best we could, Director. The two agents that got away with those blueprints can't have gone far. Tomorrow Frank and I are going to lead a squadron down to Morocco. Our last sensors picked up their trace eastward."_ _

__"Morocco?" Pierce repeats, his voice near scathing and jeering._ _

__"Yes sir." Steve confirms promptly, jaw ticking slightly at the mocking tone in Pierce's voice._ _

__The old Director chuckles dryly for a minute, no amusement in his cold, serpentine eyes. Frank feels his patience stretch thin beneath his skin, pulse thumping with the roar of his blood. He's got no time for the games he _knows_ Pierce is about to play. The man had a reputation for being a spineless dick, only focused on results and not the state of his goddamn division. _ _

__"Steven, these men aren't second-rate, _dime-store_ criminals. They're some of the best this institution has ever seen. They're probably already in Gibraltar for all you know!" _ _

__Steve flinches at the harsh bite of the man's tone and bites his lip involuntarily. He lowers his gaze to the floor, cheeks colouring with blushing shame. The way Pierce talks is demeaning and belittling. And especially embarrassing when it's in front of a man like Frank. He feels a burning anger bubble from deep within his chest like acid._ _

__"With all due respect, _Sir,_ our men did what they could with the faulty detail they were given. Frank and I hadn't even gotten the info until we were in the field-"_ _

__" _Excuses_ Captain? Don't tell me the great Captain America couldn't handle a simple, _rookie_ mission on infiltration and extraction? Is that what you're telling me, Captain?" _ _

__Steve goes silent, his jaw clenched tight despite the glassy shine of his sad, kicked-puppy eyes. Frank decides to step in then._ _

__"It's simple, man. We were given shit on details for the mission in the first place. Rogers didn't know about the numbers until we got to base and even then, got into the line of fire to try to save the SHIELD agents _you_ could give a crap about. Four men died, but the body count would've been a _hell_ of a lot more if Steve hadn't stepped up and got shot in the goddamn gut _six_ times." _ _

__Pierce's mouth creases into a fine line, his expression bitter and cold._ _

__"Well, Castle, maybe I should've made you the Captain instead. Maybe then, I would have those blueprints on my desk already. Perhaps I should've designated one man to Captain this op."_ _

__"Do whatever you gotta do, man. Faulty detail is faulty detail. I'm not obligated to continue this mission. You needed me for one op, those were _your_ words. Well, I completed it. Guess that means I'm done." _ _

__"You _failed_."_ _

__"And _you_ failed to give us the proper breakdown. We went into that base _blind._ I'm not your puppet Pierce. And SHIELD's got nothin on me. You want your blueprints? Come get em yourself. We're done here." _ _

__Before Steve could break himself out of the reverie of shame, Frank switches off the connection, leaving them both in deafening silence. He can tell Steve's in his head again, his baby blue eye glistening but the tears never fall. His pink, plush lips quiver but he bites it hard, keeps his mouth shut. Thick, blonde lashes dust his cheekbones, his eyes locked onto the floor, looking anywhere but at Frank._ _

__"Hey," Frank rumbles, voice suddenly calm and quiet as he places a firm hand on Steve's shoulder. He doesn't get to reassure the blonde because Steve quickly shrugs him off and takes off down the hallway, leaving Frank in the empty conference room tired and confused._ _


	2. Sweet Little Thing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frank takes care of Steve the way he's supposed to be taken care of.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is. I was supposed to finish this yesterday but I had an introduction to edit for a thesis. But, alas! Here it is! Enjoy.

Sweet Little Thing

Ten minutes later finds him in Steve's designated hold, standing just outside the door to the bathroom. He swipes a weary hand down his face, fingers rubbing his irritated eyes before he hangs his head back, sighing quietly. 

"Hey, c'mon, open the door." 

There's no answer on the other side, just pure, deafening silence. 

"I picked the locks on your front door, don't think I won't do it to this one." Frank threatens with no heat in his voice as he proceeds to pick the lock. He's a stubborn son of a bitch and it was high time the Captain realized that. Suddenly the door opens, Steve frowning down at Frank's hunched position over the keycard port. 

He looks... tired- no, _exhausted_ and the ocean blue of his eyes seem dull, surrounded by dark bruises and a reddish hue. His hair is all fluffed up and messy, sitting atop his head like an unkempt puppy. He's stripped off his stealth suit down to the waist where it hangs off his tiny hips, low and enticing. Frank's eyes trace the way the blonde's vest clings tightly to his skin, his breasts clearly visible under the sheer white material, pink nipples prominently displayed. 

_God, he's a living, wet dream._

"It's digitized." The blonde says quietly, rubbing at his eyes with a curled up fist.

"So?" Frank scoffs, obviously put out at being caught red-handed but trying to play it off. 

Steve pouts and rolls his eyes in the most bratty way ever- probably didn't even realize he was being cute. 

"So, how were you gonna pick the lock? It needs a specific code to-"

"Look, I didn't come here to talk about the mechanics of modern-day locks okay? I came to tell you that Pierce is an asshole, and you shouldn't take what he says to heart." 

Steve goes silent and lowers his head, almost like he's ashamed of himself. He shrugs and turns to trudge back into the bathroom. Frank follows him in. He assesses the state of the room, noting the empty tub and the pair of dark brown combat boots on the side. The mirror just over the sink is cracked in several segments, blood clearly visible on the epicenter of the crack. His eyes immediately rivet to Steve's closed fist and the blonde looks away, trying to hide it. 

"I'm fine." 

"Yeah, and I'm banging Micro's wife. Lemme see it." Frank shoots back, dryly as he approaches the cagey blonde. "Sit." 

Steve fixes Frank with a petulant and grumpy look at the order but sits up on the tiled sink anyway, holding his hand out gingerly. It trembles but becomes steady in Frank's slightly larger palm, calloused fingers against baby soft skin. _Jesus,_ Steve's as soft and delicate as a newborn. It was no doubt due to his super-healing factor, but it was still hard to digest and put the reality of the man to the myth. 

Frank wordlessly gets to work, ignoring the incessant voices in his head and focusing on the wounded soldier. The antiseptic barely makes Steve flinch as it touches his broken and bleeding skin and Frank hates the way pain seems so normal for someone as earnest and innocent as Rogers. _By no means did he think that Steve was some little flower unable to take care of himself._ But to see him shoulder all of the guilt and responsibility of things he had no control over, without any kind of regards for himself was just... well, it made Frank's blood _boil._

The state had taken advantage of the passion Steve had for doing the right thing for decades.

And he'd continue this thankless, soul-destroying puppet show if Frank didn't step in and save him. _Screw it_ , Frank thinks to himself, _I'm gonna save this star-spangled mess tonight._

He observes Steve silently for a while, noting how pretty the blonde looks when his long, wispy lashes flutter against his cheekbones as timid fingers tap lightly against the white gauze now wrapped around his wounded knuckles. It's as if he's never seen gauze in his entire life, the way he handles it so gently. Frank's about to make light of the awkwardness surrounding them with a wise-crack of his own invention when he sees a glistening tear track on Steve's pale cheek. 

"Hey, what's wrong? Did I fuck it up?" He doesn't even realize that his own hand is softly caressing Steve's face, gently forcing him to look up. 

But Steve shakes his head. "No... I- ...I'm not... I... I could've done it m-" 

"I know you could." Frank cuts in, quick to remind Steve of his worth. "I know you could've wrapped your own hand. But that don't mean you should've. M'glad to help out." 

"M'not useless. I can do it myself." Steve replies, his words insistent despite his quiet, almost shy tone. Frank fixes his head again when he goes to look away out of shame. 

"I know. Hey, look at me; _I know._ Just like that, good. I know you're capable of taking care of yourself. You're the most responsible person I've ever seen on a mission. From start to finish, it's been a real guilty pleasure of mine to see you work. But, sometimes we need a rest from all this. Some time to recharge the batteries. Even me, tough guy." 

Steve chuckles wetly at that and wipes furiously at his eyes. He doesn't know where the courage comes from but suddenly he's falling forward, burying his face in Frank's neck, breathing in the man's sweet, woodsy cologne, and feeling the gentle scraping of his six o' clock stubble against his own smooth, clean-shaven skin. He hides there for a while, not sure if Frank was stiff and unmoving from the ill-timed snuggle. He doesn't want to pull back for fear of seeing the utter indifference on the man's face. 

But- ...

 _Oh God he's gonna push me away-_ Steve thinks, moving to pull away.

But then, strong and gentle arms move to wrap around his sobbing frame, stroking his back tenderly, and pulling him even closer to that steady and warm body. It's almost poetic how soft and gentle Frank is with him, despite the man's history which ultimately earned him the moniker, _'Punisher.'_ Steve feels a familiar warmth surrounding him as Frank whispers quietly in his ear. 

"It's alright." 

Steve's choked whimpers and sobs _kill_ Frank and he has to remind himself to stay calm and not chew Pierce's head off for what he'd done. Steve wouldn't appreciate it and he could handle the Director himself, but that didn't erase the wave of overprotectiveness he suddenly felt for the pretty blonde. 

"He can't get to you. Not if I can help it." He tells Steve firmly, cupping his American sweetheart face in his large hands, stroking away sparkling tear drops with his thumbs. 

"You don't have to-" Steve begins but Frank presses a finger to his plush lips, silencing him. Glassy blue eyes blink widely at him through long and wet lashes that clumped thickly from his tears. He looked almost cherubic, like a pouty baby that couldn't get his way and had perfected the art of the 'puppy dog eyes.' 

They _won't_ work on Frank Castle. 

_At least... not yet..._

"I know you can handle it yourself. I'm just saying you don't have to this time. Got a lot on these shoulders for a long time now, I'm just trying to help." 

"Why?" Steve mutters quietly, frowning down at the place where Frank fits right between his thighs. 

Frank sighs and places a finger under Steve's chin, levelling their stares. "Because no one's ever done it. And maybe because I owe it to you after jumping down your throat yesterday." 

Steve shakes his head. "You don't need to apologize for that. I'm used to-" He stops himself at Frank's pointed expression.

"I don't talk a lot, Steve. And I'm not one for showing my emotions or whatever. But- fuck I want... no, I _need_ to protect you." 

Steve's dumbfounded by the intensity in Frank's voice and his wolfish blue eyes. He's held captive by the man's stare, practically melting under it as he sits there on top of the sink. He mumbles a quiet and defeated _Frank_ but it comes out as a desperate whimper, and he has to quickly look down in embarrassment. A low purring erupts in his throat when he feels Frank's rough hands caressing his face, his jaw... _his neck._ It's all too intense and intimate and it's making Steve feel really warm between the legs. His hips roll of their own volition and he's much too distracted to be mortified because suddenly, Frank's lips ghost over his. He feels the man's tongue trace a wet line across his plush lower lip and it makes him shiver. 

_"Frank..."_ Steve breathlessly whines again, body tingling as Frank's firm hands slide down his chest, to his sides and then eventually coming to rest on his narrow hips. He rolls them forward again, kind of like a timid thrust and Frank growls into his neck, teeth gently pulling on the soft flesh of Steve's jugular. For some reason, the thought of Frank devouring his neck like some kind of erotic vampire makes Steve incredibly _hot_ and his own hands quickly make their way into the other man's hair, soft fingertips passing timidly across the rough buzz cut. Steve tosses his head back, allowing Frank unhindered access to his neck, _a submissive act if Frank's ever seen one._

But Frank isn't even bothering to think about it now, because Steve's neck smells like marshmallows and cotton candy and he never wants to leave _goddamnit._

"You smell so good baby." He rumbles, Steve gasping softly and cooing at the scratch of his beard against his smooth neck. He's pretty sure the blonde-haired, blue-eyed beaut didn't even know he was doing it, but suddenly Frank became aware of Steve's legs wrapping around his waist, and his hands encircling his neck as his eyes remained closed from Frank's onslaught on his Adam's Apple. 

_"Frank..."_ Steve cries again, his lower body spasming at the feeling of the Punisher biting down on his neck and sucking the flesh there. 

"Wanna take this to the bed? Hm? Let me take you to bed, gorgeous." Frank rasps, tightening his hold around Steve before lifting the soldier and walking them out of the bathroom. Steve giggles involuntarily and buries his face over Frank's shoulder, but keeps clinging on like a panda. He _squeaks_ when Frank drops him onto the bunk, bouncing a little before blinking up at the man with big, bright blue eyes, still chewing on that plush lower lip. His legs are spread, but his stealth suit is still clinging to his lower body; _he wants it off._

"Hey, hey it's okay. Lemme help you get these off. Hm?" Frank whispers gently to Steve, never breaking eye contact. He's rock hard in his own combat gear but he doesn't want to touch himself yet, fearing he'd scare the blonde or at least shock him. He waits patiently for Steve to nod meekly at him before slipping the suit down Steve's long, smooth legs. Steve sits up and goes to remove his white vest but Frank takes over, discarding it over his shoulder. Stormy blue eyes trace the length and width of Steve's body, pale and soft and waxed smooth, his modesty barely hiding just beneath a tiny pair of white, see-through briefs. 

"Jesus fucking Christ Steve." Frank growls, taking off his own jacket but never moving his attention from Steve's gorgeous body. The blonde crawls on his hands and knees towards Frank, bright and curious eyes on his unbuckled belt. He glances up at Frank shyly and looks down again, before blinking up at the man in a repeated motion. He seems so out of his element right now, all bashful and blushing, biting his lip like a nervous virg- 

_Wait..._

Frank leans down to face Steve on the level, hands fixing Steve's face towards his own. 

"Hey, look at me. You ever done this before sweet thing?" 

Steve frowns and scrunches up his nose cutely, looking away until Frank fixes his face again. 

" _Ah-ah_... look at me. You a virgin baby?" 

Steve blushes a shade deeper and gently slinks out of Frank's hold, crawling to the furthest corner of the bed and curling up there with his pillow. He buries his face in the pillow, avoiding Frank's careful stare. His entire demeanour says he's scared and embarrassed by the revelation. Frank sighs and rubs his head, hand on his hip, not really used to being this gentle or sweet during sex. It's been a while since he's had a first-time lover and it was weird enough, that said "lover" was Captain America himself. It comes as a bit of a shock that Steve had kept his chastity since the good old forties, but he doesn't say a word. He isn't mad at Steve, but he is mad at himself for letting things go this far without asking that question first. Steve was probably so nervous that he'd just gone along with it. 

He rolls his shoulders and cracks his neck, buckling up his combat slacks low on his waist. The room was dark so finding his black t-shirt was hopeless. He crawls over to Steve, leaning against the headboard and trying not to crowd the guy too much. He props his arm on one knee while he stretches out the other leg closer to Steve, nudging the curled up form with his toe. Steve, to his credit, doesn't move so Frank counts that as a win. He feels his pockets for his cigarettes, finding one and lighting it up with his Zippo. After a steady inhale, he breathes the smoke out to the side, away from Steve. 

Steve remains silent for the while. 

Frank passes another hand over his close-cut hair with the same hand he's got the lit cigarette in, between two fingers. 

"You alrigh' darlin'?" He mumbles under his breath, dragging in a thick cloud of nicotine. He doesn't touch Steve in case he doesn't want to be touched, but it's hard to keep control when Steve's looking so soft and warm and precious curled up around his pillow. 

"I'm sorry if I... y'know, if I pushed you. Should've asked you before- shit, I didn't even know we were gonna-" 

He cuts off his manic monologuing with a heavy scoff, shaking his head with an empty grin on his lips. _Typical Frank Castle bullshit_ , he thinks, hating the idea that he'd scared Steve into a catatonic coma. But then, he feels cold fingers digging into his ribs as Steve hauls himself over Frank's body, nuzzling his face in Frank's stomach. Frank freezes, glancing down and silently observing as Steve cuddles into him. He quickly switches the cigarette from his right hand to his left and uses his free one to stroke Steve's head tenderly, soft blonde strands dancing in between his fingers. 

Steve says something but it's muffled and garbled because his face is planted in Frank's abdomen. 

"Can't hear you baby." Frank chuckles despite himself, huge grin on his face as Steve squints up at him, chin rested on his stomach still. 

"I said, you don't ha'fta be sorry. I wanted it." He pouts before burying his face in Frank's stomach again. 

Frank sighs, a bit more contented than before, stroking Steve's head tenderly. He takes a heavy pull of his cigarette and holds it in for a while before exhaling slowly. 

"Come here." He rasps, helping Steve crawl up his body to curl into his side, that pretty blonde head on his chest, nose tickling his neck. Steve fits against him perfectly, body soft and smooth like wax against his stiff, cold combat gear. He's warm too- like, _really warm._

"Are you mad?" Steve asks in a tiny voice that shouldn't be as adorable as it sounds. 

Frank strokes his back, fingers tracing the nape of his neck softly, scratching behind his ear. Steve makes a sound in his throat in response, like a purr. 

"No." 

"Why're you bein' so nice to me?" Steve questions again, a childlike innocence in his quiet voice. 

Frank frowns as he drags on his cigarette again. "I'm not bein' nice to ya sweetheart." 

Steve stills, then slides his leg over Frank's waist, thigh resting across the man's waist. _Fuck it,_ Frank thinks to himself, taking a hasty pull before putting out his cigarette on the sidetable near the bed. He pulls Steve closer, rough hand hiking up Steve's smooth thigh higher on him. One thrust and Steve could very well be humping against his hip. The thought makes him hard; well, harder than he already was. 

"M'sorry." Steve mutters immediately, forehead warm against Frank's collarbone. 

"What're you apologizing for?" Frank chuckles, stroking the back of Steve's head soothingly. 

Steve shrugs, but doesn't move from his position. "Mm..." 

Frank snorts and shakes his head. "That ain't a real answer darlin." 

Steve frowns grumpily at him and huffs. "Sorry I pushed... onto- ...you." It's a struggle to get out the correct words and after he does, he goes a little red in the face, embarrassed. 

Frank holds him by the chin, thumb stroking his jaw reassuringly. "I don't think that's somethin' you need to 'pologize for. I liked it... should've warned you before though. This _is_ still new to you. No matter what age you are." 

Steve frowns, blue eyes bright and focused as he considers Frank seriously. "You... like it?" 

Frank's eyes go dark, staring down his nose at Steve who looks too damn cute for his own good. He grabs the blonde's hand and leads it all the way down to the hard bulge at the front of his black combat slacks. He notes the way Steve's eyes follow the movement, his breathing slowed significantly as he realizes what Frank's showing him. Trembling fingers ghost over the obvious bulge, afraid to touch but eager to feel. Steve keeps his eyes on their hands, observing like he's on a mission, blue eyes unblinking. But then, Frank pulls his gaze back to him with his free hand, and stares deep into his eyes. Steve can feel the man pressing their hands closer and closer until his entire palm is on that thick length. 

"Feel good baby?" Frank demands quietly in a deep, breathy voice as Steve pants hotly, breathless. The pretty blonde nods slightly, eyes wide and scared. He bites down on his plump lower lip, moaning when Frank makes him close his fingers around the length of his cock, the thickness intimidating. He whimpers and Frank's bigger hand urges his to stroke up and down, over and over and over again. It feels intimate, _criminally_ so, and Steve can't get enough. He feels his own modesty becoming aroused in his tiny white briefs and tightens his legs to gain some friction. 

_"First time you ever felt a cock this big in your pretty little hands, baby?"_

Frank's voice drops a few octaves, its vibrations transmitting over Steve's body in the form of shivers. He's so desperate but he doesn't know what for, or why he was suddenly feeling a carnal need to spread his legs. Frank had just asked him a question... 

"Hey, look at me. _Look_ at me Steve." Frank growls, firmly holding him by the chin and pulling their faces closer together. Frank is met with glassy blue eyes, wide and trusting and absolutely beautiful. He roughly kisses Steve, taking his lips roughly, tongue slipping like a snake into Steve's pretty mouth. Steve doesn't move an inch, mouth open and gaping, just letting Frank take the lead. He does sob though, when Frank rolls them over, straddling Steve's waist, hovering him on the bed. Steve's fumbling hand loses its grip momentarily but quickly regains it, resuming the heavy stroking while his mouth is plundered. 

"Wanna see how it looks in your mouth." Frank rasps, as he kneels over Steve's half-naked body, thrusting his own heavy hips against Steve's. The blonde feels so tiny and breakable under him, soft and smooth-shaven skin where he is rough and sharp like razor-wire. He slowly slides off the bed, standing at the edge, feet firm on the ground as Steve crawls up to follow him.

"Please..." Steve whimpers, struggling to his knees before outright pushing his face into Frank's groin. He rubs up against it like a kitten, scenting the man hungrily. Frank damn near loses it but forces himself to withhold his carnal desires. He needs to take his time with this one; needs Steve to feel warm and protected. The Captain's submissive nature would have been a complete shock to him if he hadn't already spent time with the man prior. From early on he could see the softness in Steve's demeanour, and the quietness in his movements. Sure he wasn't some pretty little fairy, but he sure as hell was pretty as a doll. Those pink lips shouldn't be so plump and soft. And those eyes, crystalline blue and framed by the most gorgeous lashes. 

"Go ahead baby, take me out." Frank orders gently, his voice raspy with arousal. 

Steve blinks up at him, those beautiful blue eyes freezing him momentarily. The blonde then gets to work, shaky fingers unzipping Frank from his confines. He lets the material fall, pooling around Frank's ankles. He kicks out of it, observing Steve with predatory eyes as he presses his face into Frank's groin again. He noses at the sharp pelvic bones, mouth sucking pretty on the head of the man's thick cock. Frank slides a hand behind Steve's head, gripping the boy's hair gently. 

"Go on baby. Open your mouth." Frank tells the dopey blonde. 

Steve gulps audibly before opening his mouth a fraction, sticking his little pink tongue out. Frank doesn't push him, but instead strokes his cock leisurely whilst waiting on him to make contact. This is all about making Steve comfortable. 

"D- uhm..." Steve mumbles dumbly, big blue eyes locked on Frank's hard length, looking at the veins on the underside and the thickness of the head. It's leaking precum, a sign of just how fucking turned on Frank is. Steve's never felt so genuinely wanted in his entire life, his eyes watering at the realization. He kicks his lips and then presses a timid kiss to the head. The precum makes his pink lips glossy and Frank almost cums prematurely when Steve licks at the wetness. 

"Mmh." 

"Like how it tastes sweetheart? Hm?" 

Steve whines low in his throat in reply, giving Frank's cock a few kitten licks. His soft tongue catches the underside, slipping over the prominent veins. Then it slides lower and lower until Steve's obediently sucking the man's balls into his mouth. 

" _Oh fuck_ baby. Suck on em'. Show me how much you like that mouth stuffed." 

Steve sucked obediently, letting his tongue do most of the work while he focuses those pretty blue eyes on the man above him. Frank gazes back down at the blonde with dark, hooded eyes. He strokes his fingers through soft strands of hair, body tightening up in pleasure as Steve sucks on his balls. He firmly pulls him off by the hair, not wanting to cum early. 

"Why don't we test how tight that throat is? Hm? Think you'd be up for that baby?" Frank asks, his tone almost sweet and syrupy but even Steve can pick up on the commanding nature of the man he's currently on his knees for. His eyes flutter shut as Frank slaps his thick, wet cock against his cheek, leaving a glossy trail of translucent precum on his right cheekbone like a highlight. He nuzzles it affectionately, a soft but deep purring in his throat. 

"Good boy." Frank praises as Steve opens his mouth and sticks his tongue out. 

He grips his cock firmly, slapping it gently on the blonde's tongue before rubbing it on his plush, pink lips. Steve moans softly at the salty taste in his mouth, eyes closing shut every few seconds as he kneels in front of Frank. His own arousal is making a right mess in his tiny white briefs, the front of it soaked through. He whimpers and reaches a hand to touch himself. 

"Aw sweetheart. Does it hurt? Is it hurting real good?" The Punisher coos at him, stroking the back of his head gently. 

Steve manages a small sob, tightening his pale thighs together to stave off his climax. Frank's stormy eyes catch the way he's rutting against the mattress for friction, like a sweet bitch in heat. Those tiny hips make Frank's cock even harder as they roll back and forth, searching out the white hot pleasure between Steve's legs. 

"C'mon darlin', lie back. M'gonna take care of you." Frank orders in his signature rasp. He goes to remove Steve from his cock but the blonde gives a weak cry, desperately latching onto his length and suckling on the thick head. He doesn't take Frank deep into his throat like an untrained whore and instead nurses on his cock gently, sleepily. His eyes are closed, thick blonde lashes dusting on prominent cheekbones and cheeks that are hollowed from sucking lazily on Frank. 

Frank resists the urge to coo at Steve like he's a baby but the sight before him was too pure and adorable. He strokes Steve's head softly, running his fingers through silken strands. He can tell that Steve loves the heavy petting because he begins to purr deep inside his throat, the rumble sending warm vibrations through his fucking cock. He clenches his jaw, thrusting his hips just a little further and further until Steve's whole mouth is filled, spit and precum sliding down the corners, making him wet and dirty and positively delicious. 

"Oh sweet baby. Could go to sleep with my cock in your pretty mouth hm? Keeping me warm all night?" He says to Steve quietly, still petting the boy's hair, stroking his jaw ever so often. 

"Mmh..." Steve murmurs though it sound even less audible with the fat cock stuffed in his mouth. 

"C'mon baby. Let me take care of you." Frank tells the blonde again. "Don't want you cumming accidentally. It won't give you the satisfaction you need and you won't be able to sleep through the night." 

He ignores Steve's petulant cries and fixes him on his back, head on the pillows. His little white briefs are well and soaked through now, so Frank gingerly peels it down his hips and down those pretty legs. His eyes immediately rivet to Steve's cock, which- he's gotta say, is the prettiest cock he's ever seen on anyone. It's _barely_ four inches hard and a little thick and his balls are smooth and hairless. Hell, Steve entire body is all pale, waxy skin and pink blushes. 

He's perfect. 

"Oh sweet baby, look at you." Frank whispers in awe as Steve looks away and tries to hide his modesty with his hands. 

"Ah uh-uh. No hiding. Lemme see all of you precious. So pretty, _Jesus fuck_." 

He takes Steve's hands by the wrists and places them above his head, his body stretching out, beautifully languid causing his chest to push up. Frank presses soft kisses to each breast, tongue lingering over aroused nipples. He sucks on them noisily, can tell by Steve's little sobs that he's sensitive right there. He tugs the tender flesh between his teeth, making Steve cry out. His ears perk up and he isn't going to pretend that the blonde hadn't just called him...

 _"Daddy... please..."_

Frank pulls back, eyes gazing down at the gorgeous blonde. Steve looks just short of delirious, his pretty eyes looking back at Frank in wonder. Had he even realized what he'd said? Did he understand the _gravity_ of what he'd just done? Steve had unknowingly opened a fucking Pandora's box of deep and dark desires that could either scare him away from doing this with Frank, or it could reel him in so deep, he'd never ever want to be with anyone else. 

"M' I your Daddy baby?" He asks gently, bending lower to press a soft kiss to the corners of Steve's lips. He moves higher to press more kisses to Steve's forehead, grinning proudly at the purring sound coming from the blonde. Steve moves ever so slightly to bury his face in Frank's neck, trying to hide in shame. 

_"C'n... can I cum please?"_ He begs prettily instead, trying to redirect the attention from what he'd just said. 

"Oh baby, you can cum whenever you want. Look how wet you are. Little cocklet's all wet and shiny from it. Cum whenever you want sweetheart." 

Steve whines sadly in his throat and twists onto his side so he could rut his little prick against Frank's body. He just needs his Daddy to stroke him. Needs to feel that rough hand on his most delicate parts. 

_"Please Daddy... please. Help me..."_

Frank doesn't wait a minute longer and reaches a sure hand down to stroke Steve's little cock. It _barely_ fits his fist and Frank feels as if he's holding nothing but the way Steve's hips jack-knife in arousal tells him otherwise. Steve cries out and in under two minutes, he's cumming, gut-wrenching sobs leaving his lips as his cock squirts all over the man's hand. 

"So sensitive sweetheart. Look at you. Look at the mess you've made." Frank says in awe, still stroking the blonde despite the sharp aftershocks of orgasm electrifying his body. He cradles Steve's head with one hand while he brings the other one up to Steve's lips. Big, teary blue eyes blink sadly at the man's soiled fingers in confusion, Steve glancing up at Frank shyly. 

"You wanna taste yourself? Hm? Gonna lick Daddy's fingers clean baby boy?" 

Steve frowns cutely at the offer, eyes focusing hard on the glistening streams of cum all over his Daddy's knuckles and fingers. He gulps audibly, slowly sticking his tongue out, licking his lips before proceeding to lick his own mess off of Frank. The first swipe of the tongue is experimental and Frank waits patiently to see if Steve likes it or if he doesn't. The blonde's eyes light up at the taste and he can see a deep red blush pinking the boy's ears. He offers Frank a timid smile before licking his hand again, this time more passionately. 

_Apparently he loved the taste of cum._

"So perfect and sweet." Frank comments distractedly, petting Steve's head softly while the boy licks him clean. 

Steve blushes a deep shade of pink when he's all done, plush lips glossy with spit and cum. He's a mess of limbs, not sure what to do with himself as Frank lies there on his side, admiring him like a rare painting at the Louvre. They're both naked now, hard-muscled, scarred skin against a soft and pale body, unmarred by violence. Steve leans forward and boops his head against Frank's chest, purring louder as the man's strong arms wrap around him. He murmurs something but it's all muffled. Frank smirks and pets Steve's pretty head patiently. 

"Use your words sweetheart. Talk to me." 

Steve pulls back a little to stare up at him, biting his lower lip nervously. 

"In me? Please..." He asks timidly, despite the fact that he's also rutting against Frank's cock like a trained dancer with that tiny waist and gorgeous hips. Frank grabs him by the thigh and rolls them over until he's on his back and Steve's on top of him. His large hands roam across the length of those pale, hairless thighs, pausing at the plump cheeks of the blonde's ass. He squeezes the flesh until Steve relents with a mournful cry and buries his face in Frank's chest whilst maintaining friction against the man's thick cock. His little prick is hard again but this time, he doesn't seem to want an orgasm just yet. 

"Want you... inside please." He asks sweetly, gasping as Frank smacks both cheeks hard. _"Please Daddy."_

"Inside? You want me inside you darlin'?" Frank growls, thrusting upward to meet Steve's weak ruts. The boy's body shakes and spasms with every harsh thrust. Steve nods, speechless as he arches his back, leaning heavily into Frank's rough frottage. The Punisher grabs Steve's Disney Princess waist and switches their positions, hovering over the blonde like an apex predator. 

"Want me to _fuck_ you, baby?" He rasps, eyes hooded and dark as he grabs Steve by the thighs, spreading his legs wide open on either side of his hips. 

Steve nods desperately again, tears spilling over his lash line, making him look even prettier. 

"Hurts. Make it stop Daddy. Make it stop." He pleads, grabbing Frank's hand and leading it to his pelvic region, as if to show the man where he was hurting. Frank kisses Steve on the lips gently, caressing his face with a sympathetic look in his eyes. 

"I'm sorry baby. Wish I could but you've never been fucked. I don't want to risk hurting you." Frank informs the boy, heart clenching in his chest when Steve lets out a mournful cry. 

_"Please Daddy, please. M'so empty. Need you."_

"You don't know what you're asking for sweetheart." Frank tries again but is met with those teary baby blues and pouty pink lips. Steve spreads his legs even wider, pinned beneath the cruel man who won't let him have what he wants. 

"Want Daddy. Stevie wants Daddy." He begs, more defiantly this time. He's got a babyish tilt to his lips and a sparkling determination in those big blue eyes. 

Frank huffs. _His baby boy wants to get dicked down bad._

"Stevie wants my cock inside his hole hm? That's what you want baby? It ain't gonna be easy sweetheart. It's gonna hurt." Frank warns delicately, wiping the tears from Steve's face with his thumb. The blonde whines before nodding earnestly like a good little puppy. 

_"Want it. Please..."_

Frank damn near blacks out at Steve's words, cock jerking of its own volition. He growls, chest rumbling against Steve's perky tits as he rubs their chests together, gaining friction. Steve _loves_ the feeling, hands reaching down to squeeze and play with his gorgeous nipples. 

"Open up." He orders the starry-eyed blonde who immediately obeys, pink lips parting to take two of Frank's fingers. 

"Get em wet baby. We don't got lube so, this is gonna have to work. It's gonna hurt for sure if we're using spit alone." He murmurs, trying to give Steve an out but the blonde is persistent, pulling the fingers out of his mouth to say, 

"Can take it Daddy. M' a good boy." 

"You're the best boy." Frank praises with a grin at Steve who meets it with his own happy smile. When his fingers are wet enough, he slips them out of that sinful mouth and redirects his focus to that glorious ass. 

"C'mon baby, hold your legs up for me. Let Daddy get to work." 

Steve wastes no time, gripping himself under the knees and pulling his legs wide open to reveal his pink hole. Frank rubs at it with his wet fingers, Steve's body quivering at the unusual touch. 

"Shh... easy baby boy." He whispers calmly, spitting on it to add more lubrication. Steve startles at the wetness and his mouth falls open prettily. He works his middle finger into the area, not quite penetrating the blonde but keeping a steady pressure on the smooth skin around it. Steve's hole shivers under his touch, clean and pink and _virgin._

"It's alright. Daddy's right here baby. I'm right here." Frank whispers, trying to soothe Steve as his middle finger starts pushing in. Steve naturally tightens up, making it harder to push in.

"Gotta relax baby," Frank murmurs soothingly to him. "It'll hurt way more if you don't relax." 

Steve's hyper-focused on the thick, long finger trying to penetrate him and he can't help his entire face from screwing up in discomfort at the sensation. Frank takes pity and stops, climbing up the bed to lay beside Steve. He cradles the blonde's head and presses soft kisses to his cheek. Steve whines and turns his head to kiss his lips. 

"Don't stop..." He murmurs sadly, spreading his legs open wider. 

"Not stopping baby. Just giving you a little break." Frank rasps, kissing Steve's lips one more time before his slides his free hand back to that tight heat. His best bet would be to distract the blonde, and it seemed to be working. He was in to the first knuckle until Steve clenched up around his middle fingers and moaned. 

_"Daddy..."_

"I know. I know sweetheart. Don't worry, it's all gonna feel better in no time." Frank reassures him, kissing his ear gently to calm him. A single tear drop slips from the corner of Steve's eye and Frank quickly kisses it away. He keeps going until he's buried deep in the blonde's virgin hole. It takes a lot more spit to work his fingers inside but after a few moments, he's two digits in and Steve's just delirious from the pleasure of being finger-fucked. 

_"Need you Daddy... please."_ The pretty soldier asks sweetly, his blue eyes glittering up at the Punisher. 

Frank growls. "Ready baby? Hm? Want me to _fuck_ you?" 

The obscene language is intentional on his part because he knows about Steve's mannerisms and unrelenting politeness. He feels triumphant when a dark blush spreads across the blonde's chest and cheeks at his crass language. 

"Yes please." Steve answers earnestly, hooking his legs around Frank's waist as the man climbs on top of him. 

"So sweet." Frank murmurs before slicking up his cock with spit. It's not enough by a mile but it's what they have at the moment. Steve looks like a scared deer in headlights when he gazes down at the pretty boy. He pets his head softly, kissing him on the forehead. He lines up his cock at Steve's slightly open hole. 

"Hey, look at me baby. Look at me." He orders. Steve who's been looking away in fear blinks and turns to focus on his Daddy's voice. It's a steady beacon of light in the midst of all the fog in Steve's head. 

"It's gonna be okay. I'll go easy baby boy. Only hurt you good. Yeah?" 

Steve sobs and makes grabby hands for a kiss. Frank goes with it until their chests are pressed together and his lips are devouring softer, plushier ones. He keeps kissing Steve while simultaneously guiding himself into the blonde. He feels the maddening heat envelope the head of his cock, tight and fucking wet. Steve lets out a high pitched whine at the feeling and rolls his hips. Frank quickly places a hand on his waist, stopping his movement. 

"Gotta be patient baby. Daddy's doin' all the work here. 'Kay? Don't want you to hurt yourself." 

Steve sobs in complaint but doesn't move an inch again, his breathing becoming erratic with every slide of cock inside his hole. The sting makes his eyes water and he holds on to Frank tighter, burying his face in the man's neck. 

"So strong baby," Frank murmurs soothingly, marveling at the strength of Steve's grip. He works his hips slowly, pushing deeper and deeper into the blissed out blonde until he's buried to the hilt. A shallow gasp chokes it's way out of Steve's throat when he feels the tip brush some extremely sensitive spot inside him. His eyes roll back in his head and his body spasms hard before he cums with a loud cry. 

_"Daddy!"_

Frank takes the opportunity to pull out a little before sliding back in, causing Steve to arch his back in shock. He sobs again, aftershocks of orgasm rocking his body. His eyes almost cross when he opens them, glancing up at his Daddy without actually looking at the man because he's so out of it. But Frank holds him close and kisses him through it. He grips that tiny cock in his hand and strokes it a few times before using Steve's cum to slick himself up even more. Then he plunges back into that sweet hole and Steve cries out loud. His nails scratch deep, red lines into Frank's back but he doesn't mind. 

_His baby is a sexy little minx._

He wants Steve to mark him up, just as much as he is. _Hell_ , he's taking his virginity that's been solid since the forties. Steve hasn't had anyone for _decades,_ to take care of him and protect him in every way possible. He needs this. 

"Daddy's here baby. Shh, it's okay. Daddy's got you sweetheart." 

He starts fucking Steve properly, his thrusts careful but firm. He wants Steve to feel every single inch and ridge of his cock. Wants to mark the blonde deep inside, and stake his claim on him. Steve was a submissive boy, to the core and he needed a dominant to keep him safe and warm; needed to be content and full at all times. He'd be so lost without a dominating hand to guide him throughout everything. 

"Daddy..." The blonde moans again, taking every thrust like a champ. He suckles on Frank's neck for comfort, hole becoming more relaxed from the thick cock fucking into him constantly. It's pure bliss and it's beautiful and Steve's not ready for another orgasm but he can feel it in his belly. 

_"Daddy- Daddy I'm cumming! I'm cumming!"_ He gasps, squirming in Frank's hold. 

"Daddy's gonna cum too baby. Wanna cum with me? Hm sweetheart?" 

Steve barely acknowledges the invitation but when Frank moves to pull out, Steve's legs tighten around his waist and keeps him buried deep in that pretty hole. 

"Baby, you want me to cum inside you?" Frank growls in Steve's ear, not believing his good fortune. But then Steve nods and looks him in the eyes and whimpers a desperate but soft, _"Fill me up please."_

At Steve's command, Frank's resistance breaks and he lets the floodgate open. Steve whimpers at the sudden rush of wetness and warmth deep inside his body and blushes hard when Frank's tongue slips inside his open mouth. The man's rough thrusts and his wild grunts turn Steve on more than he'd expected. The Punisher reminded Steve of some kind of Alpha male, wild and dominant like an animal. This was that animal staking it's claim. 

Steve felt _owned._

" _Fuck_ baby..."

By the time Frank's done cumming, Steve's starry eyed and drenched in sweat, blonde hair plastered to his forehead and lips red and swollen. Big blue eyes gaze up tearfully at Frank, expressing just how safe and protected he felt in that moment. He clenches subconsciously around the softening length inside him, amazed that Frank's cock still feels so big despite his orgasm. He doesn't realize he's crying until Frank kisses his forehead and wipes the tears running down his cheeks. Everything moves in slow motion now, and he feels as if he's falling, the corners of his vision becoming dark and blurry with every shuddering breath he takes. 

"My sweet baby," Frank muses quietly, heart pounding in his chest as Steve sobs softly. He wonders of Steve realizes that he's in a sub drop, then thinks better of that thought because Steve's never been taken care of. He doesn't know the difference between a sub drop and plain old exhaustion. All these years he'd probably chalked it up to battle weariness, never giving himself the chance to be healed. 

He's out like a light when Frank comes back to reality, his pretty face glowing despite the darkness of the room. Long lashes darkened from tears stick wetly against his cheekbones. He looks at peace, breathing evened out to a slow inhale and a deep exhale. Frank drags the sheet over their bodies, curling up around Steve's body protectively. He's gonna need the warmth of Frank's body through the night. And he's gonna need his cock when he wakes up in the morning. 

"Night-night pretty baby." The Punisher whispers into the blonde's ear, kissing his temple tenderly before wrapping his arms around him. 

Steve purrs happily in his sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lemme know what other pairings you'd like to see with Sub steeb, cos he's a precious bby. Okay, adios! (any errors I apologize for, I legit wrote this on two hours of sleep)

**Author's Note:**

> I know I've left some works unfinished. I will continue them as soon as I can. This mphil has been kicking my ass. Hope everyone's enjoying quarantine. :) Love, Sam.
> 
> N.B: Chapter 2 is almost done


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